


Superfuck

by sloganeer



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-08
Updated: 2007-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jesus, Smallville, why didn't you tell me you could sing?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superfuck

His parents said that he was meant for better things. So one day, Clark called their bluff. He woke up, did his chores, went for a run, and never came home.

Clark is seventeen when he leaves Kansas. He speeds across corn and dirt to concrete and glass, only to find the dirt isn't exclusive to the country.

He finds an apartment ("Fucking hole."), a job ("You really don't want to buy that album."), and a muse to help him write his songs ("Jesus, Smallville, why didn't you tell me you could sing?").

Clark plays his songs for himself with guitar and a lawnchair on the roof of his building. He watches the boys across the way, but he's not playing for them. He's not sure who he's playing for, but himself isn't enough anymore. The boys walk into the store one afternoon. They browse without buying, and drop a name before they leave. CBGB. And, hey, Clark should come see them play Friday night.

Lois throws together an outfit for him - some clothes leftover at the bottom of her closet from the last boy to move out - and they head out.

It's the first time Clark sees him. Standing at the bar, or at the back, or just to the side of the stage. He's everywhere. He's young, Clark can tell, but he doesn't want anyone else to know. Clark makes his way to the bar, and the man raises a glass in his direction. He offers nothing else, just a friendly nod. But Clark knows he will see the man again.

"You know him?" Lois asks over the rush of the crowd.

"Not yet."

It takes Clark another week before he returns. This time with guitar in hand. He hears his name, feels Lois's hand on the small of his back and brushing his hair. This is what he came for, so Clark gets up on stage.

His amp is small, and his voice not that much bigger. His band is just Clark - he knows he has to do this on his own - but Lois suggested a name, anyway.

"Superfuck!" she yells from somewhere on the dancefloor.

The crowd explodes, and Clark can't not sing now.

The man is there, waiting, when Clark steps down, sweaty, but not at all tired.

"My name's Lex. I make records. I want to make yours."

Clark, still high on the lights on smoke, laughs more than he thinks he should. He closes his eyes, opening them again when he offers Lex his hand.

"I'm--"

"I know who you are. I want you to know who you can be."

Lex doesn't shake his hand, which is odd because Clark knows that Lex wants him. It's in the way his tongue touches his lips, but mostly in the thrum of his body. Lex is all the energy of the club, compressed, and brought to a slow simmer. He's someone Clark would risk grabbing around the waist, and fucking in the bathroom. Clark takes the thick business card instead.

Lex's eyes travel up from Clark's fingers, across his chest, and over his shoulder, making Clark turn and look. It's Lois, dancing towards them, and flashing her teeth at anyone giving her more than a second of attention.

"Superfuck!" She throws her arms around Clark, kissing his lips, and risking a little tongue. "Or are you Smallville again? I can't tell. You wear that guitar of yours like a uniform."

Clark will have forgotten that line by the time he finds a pen. Lois is clinging to him, her breasts pressing into his side, and her warmth enough for the whole room. She's sweating, and discreetly wipes her forehead on Clark's t-shirt.

"Hey, Lex?"

Lois laughs into his neck. They're both a little bit drunk and dizzy, and Lex is gone. They're broke, so they walk home, Lois on his left side so Clark can hold her hand, and his guitar in the other.


End file.
